Algol Falling
by Azul Bleu
Summary: Events during Chapter 179 of Tsubasa Reservoir Chronicle leaves the clone broken. He surrenders and is sent to Yuuko's Shop.
1. Chapter 1

This is a _Tsubasa Reservoir Chronicles _fan fiction, after the tragic events of Chapter 179.

In a place elsewhere, in a time elsewhen.

From the thin air a came a blot like spilled ink, and Syaoran that was not Syaoran stepped through. The young clone fell to his hands and knees, the mighty sword Hien clattering on the floor.

"End it. Please end it."

Syaoran approached his clone, sword raised and pointed at him.

"Syaoran, wait!" But Kurogane's hand was shrugged off, and Syaoran advanced until his sword-tip was above the clone's head.

"End this pain. I will not be a puppet."

Fai, coming behind Syaoran, said, "What causes the pain, Syaoran-kun?"

The clone trembled. "I killed her. My important person, the Princess. This pain. End it. The compulsion... is strong. Please, I won't be a puppet."

* * *

"What is your wish?" asked the sorceress of the Wishing Shop. The Black Mokona and the White were in communication.

"End it. To disappear. To be free." Syaoran's naked sword was poised behind the clone.

From behind the Dimensional Witch, Watanuki shouted, "You wish to disappear?"

"Shush, Watanuki-kun. And if you disappear, how will you pay for the wish? There must be payment, Syaoran-kun. Every wish has its price.

"The payment will be servitude to me, Syaoran-kun, until the wish is paid for. Is that acceptable?"

* * *

"Yuuko-san, I hope you aren't serious about this." 

"Oh, I am serious about this, Watanuki-kun!"

"But to let him disappear! I don't want him to disappear!"

"Who said anything about that?"

"What?"

"What did that boy say, exactly?"

"End it. To disappear. Oh! To be free!"

"You can be bright sometimes!" chuckled the witch. The twin girls echoed, "Sometimes! Sometimes! Sometimes!"

"Shaddup!" Watanuki shouted, arms waving, overreacting again. The twins merrily skipped out of reach. "So, does Syaoran-kun, the clone know what wish he got?"

"He will once he works through his payment. He will stay here and do what I say."

"And by the end of it, he will no longer want to disappear?" said Watanuki hopefully. "We'll try to change him little by little?"

"Ohh... we seem to be out of sake!" said the witch, shaking an empty bottle of the last drops.


	2. Chapter 2

Syaoran was silent and brooding, his manners almost savage for some time after arriving. It was as if the clone had forgotten how to talk. They put him to work to keep his mind from grief.

"He's worse than Doumeki", sighed Watanuki, after Syaoran had simply nodded and stalked away. "At least Doumeki mumbles."

Day after day, and barely a word from the clone as they worked in the shop. He couldn't cook. The clone barely remembered the taste of food from before his eye-seal's breaking, and afterwards eating was just a survival function.

After Sakura's death by his own hands, her soul dissolving into sakura petals before his eyes even as she declared her love, there was no taste in anything at all.

He helped Watanuki with cleaning, and some of the heavier lifting.

And by night, Watanuki thought he could hear the muffled sounds of Syaoran's grief from the next room, though he hid it well. Nights were terrible, when your guard was down.

* * *

"AAAAAHHHH!!"

Watanuki was freaking out. He ranted. He raved. He waved his arms, swayed his body, and did all the funny Watanuki Kimihiro stuff.

"AAAAAAAAAHHHH!!"

The occasion was just the usual off-hand criticism of his bento by Doumeki. That, and a few other things. Well, a lot of things.

Such as Yuuko telling Syaoran to look up from the floor, there was no need to be so docile like Watanuki was when he started working. ("I am NOT docile! I was NEVER docile!")

Or the twin girls echoing, "Docile! Docile!"

Or Black Mokona eating the last bit of his chocolate cake. ("Yummy!" "NOOO! Himawari-chan gave that to me!")

"Needs more wasabi," muttered Doumeki.

Yuuko wanting more sake.

Watanuki threw a tantrum.

"So noisy," muttered Doumeki, plugging his ears.

Even the taciturn clone Syaoran winced as his ears rang. "Is he always like that?"

"Hn," replied Doumeki, raising an eyebrow at him. "Does it every other day."

"I do not!" Watanuki shrieked.

"Just ignore him Syaoran-kun," smirked Doumeki.

"ARE YOU TWO GANGING UP ON ME!"

"I'll try. But he is pretty loud."

"WHY YOU..." Watanuki's ranting ground to a halt.

He'd just seen Syaoran smile. It was a very faint smile, a very slight turning up of the corners of the mouth, but it was there.

"Well! I'm glad someone's enjoying my rant!" huffed Watanuki. Then he continued his tirade.

Actually Watanuki wasn't that annoyed anymore, but he kept up his nagging ninny act for a few more minutes for Syaoran's sake.

He was pretty sure he saw Syaoran trying to suppress a grin.


	3. Chapter 3

(A/N: I meant to make this longer, but I have a lot of work to do. The story keeps changing in my mind, but it's taking shape. I think I'll rename the story.)

�

It was time to go to school, something that rather confused the Syaoran clone. Watanuki lent one of his old middle school uniforms until someone bought some for Syaoran. They would not be attending the same class, because Syaoran was physically about fourteen, and Watanuki and Doumeki were older.

�

"You'll be fine," Watanuki assured him.

�

�

* * *

�

�

"Class, we have a new student," the teacher was saying. "Introduce yourself, Li Syaoran."

�

"My name is Li Syaoran," he said softly. "Thank you very much."

�

The whole class was a bit dumbfounded by the extremely brief introduction. Syaoran cluelessly waited for something to happen. Still standing in front of the class, he looked around. There was a red-eyed albino boy in the middle, who looked somehow familiar, as did the boy sitting beside him. The albino regarded him with great curiosity.

�

"Ah, well, keeping it brief can be a virtue!" the teacher continued, "Now who will give the newcomer a tour of this school?"

�

* * *

�

It was lunch time, and they were on the roof, Syaoran and the albino boy.

�

"You are not of this world," stated Syaoran.

�

"Neither are you, Syaoran-kun," smiled Kaworu Nagissa.

�

Syaoran paused, for Kaworu had taken the words out of his mouth. "You... are manufactured. Like me."

�

Kaworu looked at him with pity. "Ah. So you found that out about yourself, did you? I hoped you would not.

�

"And your next question is... what am I doing here? I could ask the same question about you too. Where are your friends? I thought they always travelled with you?"

�

Syaoran looked puzzled. "Did we meet before?"

�

Now Kaworu looked puzzled. "Well, it was on another world. I guess you have visited so many. But you helped me and Ikari-kun, escape from there. Everyone on Earth was wiped out, I mean on my Earth, except me and Shinji. Everything, even the plants and animals were gone. Melted away into an ocean of blood.

�

"Then you, a tall dark warrior, a blond magician, and a girl, and a white puffball creature appeared from thin air. Kurogane-san, Fai, Sakura and Mokona. I begged the Dimensional Witch through Mokona to get us out."

�

Syaoran's mind was blank. It must have been from before the seal's breaking. He vaguely recalled a a remarkable ocean of blood, but that was all. "You know of Yuuko-san?"

�

"Huh? You told me about her. Anyway, she granted our wish. Or rather, mine. Shinji was a complete wreck. We both had a part destroying that world, you see, and it hit him very hard. You don't recall anything?"

�

"You destroyed a whole world?" Syaoran's eyes were wide. Here was a guilt even heavier than his own.

�

"Yes, the Third Impact... we were both manipulated into it though, Shinji more than me... the damned old men of SEELE covered every base. So I wished to this world with Shinji, and wished him to forget."

�

"You made him forget?"

�

Kaworu nodded. "Such memories were more than he could bear. He was like broken glass. And since I had a part manipulating him, it was the least I could do to make amends.

�

"Part of the price of the wish, was that I must remember what we did." Kaworu peered over the edge at the schoolyard below. "There he is!" Kaworu waved happily to someone under him. "He's happier not remembering. I helped kill off an entire world... and I'd like to save one, that particular one. Shinji made me realize what was important. I was supposed to just pretend to like him, but the pretense became real... but it was too late to save the world by then. Someone said, saving one life is like saving the entire human race. Maybe I can fool myself into thinking I'm redeemed."

�

Syaoran moved beside him. "Is Ikari Shinji... important to you?"

�

"Very much!"

�

"I... killed my important person," Syaoran's head bowed.

�

"What! How did this... ? " But Kaworu took Syaoran's face in his hands and gazed into his eyes. Syaoran stood there passively. "There's a story behind that strange eye. But I'm not going to judge you... how could I? At least the compulsion is broken off."

�

"I was discarded," Syaoran said emptily. " You... you knew I was a duplicate."

�

"Syaoran-kun, knowing that you are _manufactured_ by people, for a dark purpose... I know it's hard. That's why I never told you. I really hoped that you would never find out, or be compelled by someone else's purpose. But. it's not so bad, once you lose the compulsions. If you pretend hard enough to be human, there's really no difference. The pretense can become real. But you have to want to. So...

�

"...will you join Shinji and me for lunch?"

�

"I am not hungry." Syaoran was taken aback by the sudden change in topic.

�

"Oh please! help me out here," Kaworu begged. "Shinji always makes so much for the bento, and I don't want to become fat!"

�

Before Syaoran could refuse, the door to the rooftop staircase swung open and Ikari Shinji trotted up with lunch.

�

"Sorry I'm late! Oh, hi Syaoran! Would you join us for lunch?"

�

"Kaworu said he was afraid of becoming fat," replied the clone, clueless about social discretion.

�

Kaworu just gaped at him as Shinji laughed.

�

On days afterwards, Syaoran would find himself on the roof at lunchtime for reasons (other than hunger) that weren't very clear to him. He felt drawn to those two and they were happy to include him. Kaworu chuckled when he asked about it. "Just go with it!"

�

When he mentioned this to Watanuki, the older boy was delighted. Watanuki insisted that he contribute by bringing some food as well. "And I know just the thing!" he said, and Syaoran soon found himself bringing a bento.

�

�


	4. Chapter 4

* * *

_Syaoran._ The voice was a crackling growl.

_Syaoran!_ Syaoran fled from it in the inky darkness, not knowing what he feared.

And woke up, sweating and gasping.

He stumbled out of his room, looking dishevelled. Watanuki was preparing breakfast; a simple one this morning, rice with fish, miso soup and tea.Doumeki was there as usual, waiting for his lunchbox and making sure Watanuki got it exactly right.

"Are you all right Syaoran?"

"Yes." Syaoran's reply was short. Doumeki glanced at him from where he was leaning, not believing the younger boy.

Then it was time for school.

Night after night Syaoran was pursued by the voice as he stumbled about in a dark dream.

* * *

"I am home," Syaoran called out one evening, getting back from school, but there was no reply. There was a note on the table.

_Syaoran, Watanuki and I have gone shopping. There's food in the kitchen so help yourself. Take care of Maru and Moro would you? Yuuko._

Maru and Moro, the twin girls were an enigma to Syaoran. It was obvious to him that they were artificial beings, and even more limited than he was, not able to leave the shop, but they showed such joy of life that Syaoran believed being a clone might not be so bad sometimes.

Just sometimes.

The girls would play with him from time to time, and Syaoran did his best to humour them. But he felt so awkward. When he told Yuuko about it, she laughed, ruffled his hair told him it's only because he's a boy trying to play with with little girls.

"Maru? Moro?" Syaoran called out. He wandered from room, not seeing them anywhere.

"Maru? Moro?" Syaoran felt a strange feeling in his chest and stomach. He stopped to identify the feeling and decided that it was called "worry". He read a lot of books, so it was often a matter of matching the feeling to the descriptions. The books (a few manga included) also said that worrying for friends and family was a Good Thing. Did that mean he cared about Maru and Moro?

But he couldn't find them.

"Maru?" he heard a giggle. Lifting a corner of a tablecloth, he bent down and peered.

Maru and Moro pounced on him from their hiding place.

"Yay! Yay! You found us! You found us!" Each of them took one of Syaoran's hands, dancing around and around him, amking him spin and spin. Syaoran wondered at the warmth in his chest. Happiness?

"You found us nee-san! Now it's your turn!"

"Your turn!" chimed the other girl.

"My turn to what?"

"Hide!"

"It's a game!" explained Moro.

"Hide where?" Syaoran wondered.

"You're not supposed to tell, silly! You hide, we'll find you!"

Syaoran crept away as the girls closed their eyes and started counting to thirty. Where would he hide? He had never played this game before. There was a wardrobe though. Not being an experienced player, he didn't know that a wardrobe was the most obvious place to look, so he went in.

The wardrobe was very roomy. More roomy than it ought to be. Larger inside than outside? That was illogical. Syaoran extended his arms to explore.

It was ridiculous. He couldn't find the back wall. Squeezing between some dresses (Syaoran didn't stop to wonder whose), he emerged in the sunlight, blinking.

Sunlight? It had been dusk when he got back from school, it being autumn. Where in the world was he? Had he ended up in another world? But the place looked like the city that he had come to.

There was a funny little man floating in the air, his head shaped like a tapir, or maybe an armadillo, wearing a beret, a striped shirt, holding the strings of some balloons which glowed. It was Yumekai the dream-seller, though Syaoran didn't know that yet.

Yumekai was normally a calm person. This day was an exception. He had accidentally let go of some dream balloons, and they were now hurrying away in different directions, as if they had a mind of their own.

"Help! Help!" Yumekai called out. "Don't just stand there! Help me get them back!"

"The balloons?"

"Yes! You go that way! I'll chase the ones this way!"

Syaoran ran off after the balloons. Many a feat of acrobatics were done that would make Jet Li weep, and Jackie Chan sigh for the youthful days when he could do all that. Running up a wall and somersaulting, he caught one in each hand. Five more he chased down, leaping from roof to roof. The last three he caught by running on telephone lines and leaping from pole-top to pole-top.

Syaoran certainly hadn't lost his touch!

When he got back, the Yumekai had retrieved his own share of balloons. Floating had its advantages.

"Thank you, kid! Don't know what I'd do if I lose my stock!"

"What are these balloons? They glow."

Yumekai looked at him curiously. "Didn't Yuuko mention me?" Syaoran shook his head.

"I am Yumekai the Dream Seller. These balloons are dreams. Would you like one?"

"I don't have any money to pay you."

"Ummm. Ummmm, wait, I haven't thanked you properly for your help. Here, take this one." Yumekai handed one over.

Syaoran twined the string around his finger, the balloon bobbing up and down. "What do I do with it?"

"You put it in your room. You get a dream from it. Don't really know when, it might take a few days. Well, gotta go now. See you again sometime! Thanks for the help!"

"Oh. Well." Syaoran walked away, wondering how he was going to get back to the Shop.

There was a gap in a chain-link fence. Syaoran walked right past it. Suddenly hands materialized in thin air in the gap, and pulled him in.

"Found you!" Moro danced around him.

"Found you!" Maru chimed in, skipping around and around.

Syaoran had fallen backwards out of the wardrobe on his butt. He got up, dusting himself off. "How did I get back here?"

Then there was a noise coming from the front of the shop; the front door was opening.

"We're back!" Yuuko called out happily.

"Ngghhh!" a voice that sounded like Watanuki grunted. When Syaoran went to meet them he saw Watanuki setting down some extremely large parcels, and wiping his brow. "Hey Syaoran, would you help put these-- what have you got there? It looks like a dream balloon!"

"That's what Yumekai called it."

Yuuko smiled. "So you've met him! How did you get him to give you a balloon?"

Syaoran told them what had happened. "But what do I do with it?"

"You put it in your room and sleep. I don't know what dreams you'll have, but it'll be really interesting."

Syaoran looked apprehensive. His dreams had been too "interesting" lately.

"It's all right," Watanuki patted the younger boy's shoulder. "The dreams are a little weird, but they're good dreams!"

"All dreams are a little weird, " said Yuuko, "but the Yumekai only sells quality goods."

* * *

Syaoran was stumbling in the dark again, in his dream. The voice had not called out to him yet, but he knew it was out there somewhere.

He saw an oblong of light, a bright doorway in the blackness. Seeking refuge, he hurried towards it.

It was a tea-room. Not one of those highly ritualized Tea Ceremony rooms, but a room for relaxing and enjoying tea. Two men were seated on cushions sipping tea and talking about the merits of Darjeeling tea vs Japanese matcha. They both looked familiar, though for different reasons.

"He's here," said one who looked like a taller version of Doumeki. What was Doumeki doing in Syaoran's dream?

"Welcome Syao-kun! Come here son, it's been such a long time since I saw you!" said the other man enthusiastically.

Syaoran stammered, "Fu- Fujitaka-san?" For it was Fujitaka, the one who had adopted Syaoran in Clow country.

"Is that any way to greet your father?" the Doumeki lookalike frowned.

"I... don't really have a father..." said Syaoran.

Doumeki snorted. "He found you and took care of you, what more could a kid want? He's pretty dense isn't he Fujitaka?"

"Hey watch it, that's my kid you're talking about! Come join us son!"

Syaoran seated himself at the table while Doumeki poured tea into another cup. Syaoran couldn't stop staring.

Fujitaka sighed, "Don't you think you've kept my boy in suspense long enough?"

The other man chuckled. "I'm Doumeki Shizuka's grandfather, Doumeki Haruka. I've met your friend Watanuki Kimihiro a few times."

Then Syaoran looked at Fujitaka. The man smiled.

"You can call me Fujitaka-san. But I'd really prefer it if you called me... father."

"Fuji... Fu.. Father. Father."

"That wasn't so hard was it?" said Doumeki's grandfather.

Syaoran had a strange feeling of warmth, like when he played with twin girls, or when Watanuki gave him a lunchbox he had so lovingly prepared.

"Father... I am not... who I was."

"I know, son."

Syaoran looked up at the man who still called him 'son'.

"I knew there was another heart lurking inside you. I wanted to help it grow. And look, it grew! It just took a bit longer."

"Why are you here Father?"

"To help you of course. With that!" Fujitaka pointed at the dark doorway behind Syaoran.

_Syaoran._ The voice called out. Syaoran bolted up, knocking over the table.

"Calm down. Relax." Doumeki stood by his side.

"Syao-kun. Did you ever take a good look at what's chasing you?" Fujitaka put his arm over the boy's shoulders. Turn around and face it."

"I can't! I can't! I think I'll die!"

"You won't die son, I promise. You'll just change and grow."

Something stepped out of the doorway, large and fiery, like a wolf. It towered above them.

_Syaoran. Do you not know me?_

A memory shook loose in Syaoran's mind and a name came with it.

"Ku... Kudan? You are Kudan?" The boy stammered.

_I am your Kudan, _ the Kudan stepped closer, it breath hot but not scorching. It stared into Syaoran's eyes. _And I am you._

Laying a paw on Syaoran's chest, which burned pleasantly like a hot egg through cloth, the Kudan said one more thing.

_Don't disappear, Syaoran._

Syaoran awoke in his room, bewildered. Looking around, he saw that the balloon had burst.

* * *

_A/N Sorry for the delay! Exams were coming up!_


	5. Chapter 5

A/N I apologize for the delay. The latest chapters of TRC threw my story arc out completely. I have decided to just go with my original plotline anyway.

* * *

The Kudan came again in his dream.

_Syaoran._ The Kudan, a blazing canine figure, filled the doorway.

Syaoran got up from his futon and followed the creature out.

They were in some kind of mansion. There were corridors twisting this way and that, rooms that seemed impossibly large or unexpectedly small. And it was dark, and many things were covered in dust. Strange portraits hung on the walls, some familiar, others utterly bizarre. There were objects that seemed to attract his attention, such as a large Egyptian water-clock, or an antique Japanese tea cup.

Syaoran's adoptive father Fujitaka was lounging in a couch in one of the living rooms. (Oddly, Syaoran was certain he had passed through several).

"Hullo son!" Fujitaka said in greeting.

Syaoran bowed respectfully.

"There's no need to be so formal with me," said Fujitaka, getting up and putting an arm around Syaoran's shoulder. He looked around the Shop with an archaeologist's eye, not being able to resist looking at antiquities and strange items. "What a fascinating place. Let's explore it together shall we?"

The three of them set off touring the Shop. It was dark. There did not seem to be anyone else apart from themselves. Strange objects presented themselves, hanging on the walls or lying on shelves and tables. There were books he had never seen before.

After what seemed to be hours, Syaoran finally said, "This place is much bigger than I expected."

Fujitaka laughed. Even the Kudan gave a humorous snort.

"Don't you know what this place is, yet?" his adoptive father smiled. "Come on, I'm sure you know what this is!"

Even the Kudan looked at him expectantly.

A light bulb turned on in Syaoran's head. He grinned at his father. "It's a Palace of Memory! I should have known! You taught me this technique so I can memorize lots of facts!"

The Palace of Memory is an ancient memorization technique. You imagine a place such as your room or your house, and you put fragments of things (usually symbols linked to what you want to remember) to be memorized at certain locations, on your table, hanging on the wall, or near the sink. Then by imagining going through the place and looking at the fragments, you can recall a lot of things.

Syaoran got excited and touched the nearest object, a broken brick lying on a coffee table.

"Syaoran, _WAIT!"_ Fujitaka cried out in alarm. "Don't just go around touching things like that!"

But Syaoran was swallowed up by a memory.

It was on another world. The city was burning, and people were crying out in fear_. _What could be causing this? What monster had descended on this place?

In Syaoran's left hand was a feather. In his right hand was his sword Hien. And to his horror, he heard himself utter an incantation to summon fire to the nearest house.

_Syaoran, STOP!_ a voice growled behind him in challenge. He turned around to face his foe, and the Kudan pounced on him in a blast of fire...

He was back in the mansion, pinned down by the Kudan. The broken brick had been knocked out of his hand. The Kudan shifted itself off and let Syaoran stand.

"That... that was me..." Syaoran husked. He wished he would wake from this dream, but knew that he would not. "I... did that. I destroyed that country."

Fujitaka hugged him. There was no other comfort.

"Try this one," Syaoran's father extended a piece of cake to him. Syaoran shrank from it.

_Take it,_ said the Kudan, and Syaoran did so, surrendering himself to a memory.

It was night, and the air was cool, as night-time in the desert city of Clow normally was. Syaoran was riding piggy-back on his father, the motion shaking him awake. There was still the taste of cake in his mouth.

He was little again. Sakura's birthday party (her eighth) had been a lot of fun. There had been cake, and Syaoran was tired out running through Clow Palace playing hide and seek and other games all day, and he had fallen asleep on a chair. Fujitaka had picked him up on his back and was taking him home.

Not even Touya could spoil his day. In fact the older boy and his friend Yukito had incorporated an enjoyable make-believe scenario into hide and seek that made it much more fun.

Syaoran thought about telling his father that he was awake and could walk, but it felt so warm on Fujitaka's back, and so comfortable riding, that he said nothing. Until they came to the locked front door of their house. Fujitaka shifted around looking for his key in his pockets, trying not to wake his little son (who was already awake) on his back. After some minutes, it got so comical that Syaoran giggled.

"How long have you been awake?" Fujitaka said, surprised. He lowered Syaoran carefully.

"Since Market Street," said the boy, getting to his feet. He smiled up sleepily at his father.

"You cheek," Fujitaka ruffled Syaoran's hair. "Now where did I put that key?"

Fujitaka patted his pockets to no avail.

"Huh?" Syaoran remembered something, and fished the key out of his jacket pocket. He said, grinning, "You gave it to me!"

They went in. Fujitaka made sure Syaoran washed his face and brushed his teeth. Then in Syaoran's room, he pulled the blankets over his son. The last thing Syaoran heard before he drifted off was his father saying,

"Heh, actually I knew you were awake all along. Good night."

The boy fell asleep smiling.

Then he was back in the Shop with Fujitaka and the Kudan, within the dream, in his true age again. The Kudan sat on its haunches in the middle of the room. Fujitaka was seated at one end of a couch. Syaoran lay stretched out on it, his head resting in his father's lap. He looked up, smiling drowsily.

"I love you, father."

"Of course you do. Now you should just sleep normally, all right?"

* * *

When Syaoran awoke in the morning, he was thoughtful. He wondered what it must have been like for the Princess to absorb her own memories from the feathers. His own Palace of Memory dream had been so vivid and disorientating, and sometimes frightening.

_Princess, you were so brave! You must have been so scared, but never said anything._

It also occurred to him that he didn't recognize his own Memory Palace. A Memory Palace should be a place very familiar to him, and vividly imagined, not strange, dark and shadowy.

_Just whose mansion was that_?

A/N The Palace of Memory method actually exists (you can look it up), though it doesn't work the way Syaoran's does.


	6. Chapter 6

(A/N: TRC has moved way beyond my vision. In this story, we still don't know Watanuki's connection, and the clone is still alive, but the duplicate Sakura is dead.)

"I don't always know the right thing to do, Yuuko-san. Is it because… I'm not human?"

The woman leaned forward, cupping the boy's face in her hands. "It's because you are young, Syaoran. Even naturally born people don't always know the right thing to do at your age."

Watanuki came in with a tray for tea.

"And sometimes, even when they mean well," the Dimensional Witch continued. "Watanuki used to do foolish things with the best of intent."

The dark haired boy in question pouted, but made no comment. He did formerly have a self-sacrificial, almost self-destructive impulse. His mismatched eyes and vision magically shared with Doumeki were a permanent reminder.

"But," the clone Syaoran said, "How can I know?"

"You can learn," Watanuki spoke gently.

"Yes, people learn through their connections to other people," the Witch smiled.

Syaoran still looked unconvinced. He had accidentally hurt Watanuki while practicing Aikido. Doumeki had been teaching him to fight using minimal force and violence, to help him learn self-restraint. The clone had been pleased with himself, gotten carried away, and performed a throw on an unsuspecting victim.

Doumeki had grabbed his arm, sternly saying, "That was uncalled for."

The clone could have easily swept him aside. It was well within his powers.

Instead, he felt an intense shame. He couldn't stop apologizing, even as Watanuki dusted himself off and assured everyone that he was all right.

"Don't think too much about it," said Yuuko. "Most of it is subconscious, and more like memories of the body. But we correct each other if we overstep the boundaries."

"You can use this too," said the Witch, prodding Syaoran's chest.

His heart? "The other Syaoran gave me a heart."

The Witch shook her head. "You had a heart from the very beginning. Syaoran's gift to you was to allow it opportunity to grow."

"I'm still learning too, Syaoran-kun," said Watanuki. "Let's learn from each other."


	7. Chapter 7

_Some people_, thought Doumeki, _have a thing for standing out in the rain_. It was pouring, and he was feeling a bit chilled as the wind gusted some raindrops into the shade of his umbrella. But in front of him was, a familiar figure stood alone, still, like a statue. He did not turn as Doumeki approached.

"The rain may not seem like much, but you'll catch cold just standing here."

Syaoran opened his eyes. "Oh. I didn't mean to worry you Doumeki. I was just… remembering."

Doumeki wondered if it might be prying if he asked.

"When Sakura-hime didn't remember me, I went out into the rain so no one could see me cry, " Syaoran looked up, feeling the rain on his face. "But I think Kurogane-san and Fai-san knew anyway."

"Ah." The Black Mokona had told Doumeki that story over a bottle of sake, as he (she? it?) had seen through its white twin's perceptions.

Syaoran sneezed.

"Bless you," Doumeki moved closer and tilted the umbrella slightly to shelter him. "We'd better get to someplace dry and warm."

"Sometimes I wonder if I'm just a brute, but there are days like this when I feel human, even if a sad human."

Doumeki raised an eyebrow. "Brutes don't wonder. If you're wondering about it, you're no brute."

"I think, therefore I am?" Syaoran quoted, then frowned trying to remember who he was quoting.

Doumeki looked at him. Watanuki and Yuuko had explained that the boy was a clone of the real Syaoran. But what was a person really? The Five Aggregates of the Self, as a monk had explained to him: Form, Senses, Feeling, Consciousness and Thought. Syaoran had all of these. _He thinks, therefore he is._

"Nietzsche!" cried Syaoran jubilantly.

"Gesundheit!" said Doumeki, perfectly deadpan.

Startled, Syaoran looked at him, then laughed. "You're funny."

Doumeki smiled. _He's human all right. Even if does confuse Nietzsche with Descartes._


	8. Chapter 8

"I don't hate you, you know," said Syaoran, without looking at the other boy. His clone looked away from the moon, where he had been staring, and looked at him without expression.

They were sitting at Yuuko's porch overlooking the garden. Doumeki had given them sake, but Watanuki snatched the bottle away and substituted a pot of tea. Two drunk Syaorans, who knows?

"No, I don't know." He turned away and resumed staring at the moon.

Now Syaoran looked at him, waiting for him to say more, if any.

"Every time we met, we… fight," the clone said, looking sidelong without turning his head at Syaoran. Finding Syaoran looking at him, he hastily looked away again. Syaoran had been his template, his archrival in bloody battles. Then his ally. Syaoran would not have won without his help.

Now, maybe something a little more awkward. Friend?

"Are you holding that against me?" said Syaoran, still staring at the other boy.

The clone swallowed, but shook his head. "Syaoran, I mean…" It felt so strange calling someone else with his own name. "No. But…"

Syaoran waited. The clone was awkward where strong feelings were involved.

"Syaoran… do you hold it against me?" He finally let his breath go in a gush.

"No. I fight, then I let go after it is done."

The clone now looked at him, eye to eye. "Kurogane-san said something like that."

"It was my father. But Kurogane made me remember that."

The clone looked away, scowling. Of course. Kurogane always made a point of looking out for him. "Did Kurogane tell you to talk to me?"

Syaoran sighed. There was a gulf between them, but the bridge was only a few bricks short of completion, in a manner of speaking. "Syaoran," he said, calling the clone by his own name. "I am not perfect. I am not flawless. I am not the great paragon of virtue you think I am, that you keep comparing yourself to and feel small.

"I needed to be reminded. I'm human."

"Human," the clone choked. His head drooped and he drew up his knees miserably. He was only a…

"And so are you! No, look at me! Look at ME! You ARE human!" Syaoran now kneeled, forcibly turning and raising the clone's head to look at him. He paused, wiped a finger on the clone's cheek, holding up a drop of moisture.

Human.

"I don't hate you."

It didn't matter which boy said it.


End file.
